


not so long ago in a gotham not so far away

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin Eternal (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Gotham Girl Gang, Inspired by this week's batman and robin eternal I guess, it's a fic that's soft and comforting and full of friendship, platonic cuddle puddles are the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I love you," Harper says, and Stephanie answers, "I know," as if there's a joke Cassandra's missing.</p><p>She doesn't have time, as they launch back into battle, to ask them what it is--but she has a plan to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not so long ago in a gotham not so far away

**Author's Note:**

> Those Gotham Girl Gang panels from this week's B&RE were going around, and someone commented in the tags that they confirm Steph and Harper as Star Wars nerds and... well. I wanted to write that.
> 
> Originally this was just gonna be the Gotham Girl Gang bein' buds, but Tim slotted pretty nicely into things and I just read a huge chunk of his Robin run last weekend, so I couldn't resist adding him, too.
> 
> Finally, in the interest of full disclosure, I'm not actually reading Batman and Robin Eternal, so I have very little grasp of the new Cass's character. In fact, since my New 52 reading is more or less limited to Grayson, We Are Robin, and Catwoman, I, um, have pretty limited exposure to any of them in the New 52. (Or in Harper's case, at all, though I have plans to rectify that.) Anyway, my point is, beyond Harper's existence and Harper and Steph being roommates, this is probably closer to pre-52 canon and characterization.
> 
> I hope you enjoy anyway!

"I love you," Harper says, fingers curled tight around the grip of the "biggest, shockiest" gun that Stephanie could find, her shoulders a straight line of defiance and her lips pulled tight at the corners as she resists a smile—

 

"I know," Stephanie answers, the crinkle of her eyes betraying her own grin, even as her muscles tense in preparation for the fight.

 

Harper's smile breaks through for just a moment, pleased white teeth flashing as they leap into battle again, and Cassandra spares one instant to wonder what she missed.

 

***

 

The Cave rumbles faintly with the hum of the computers and the generators powering them, its only light source- against Alfred's explicit, tight-backed advice- the electric glow of the monitors. Patrol ended hours ago, but a vigilante's work is never done in a city like Gotham.

 

Cassandra perches on the edge of the table, in a space carefully cleared of wires and engine parts and the sundry other things Tim and Bruce have left scattered across it, and the heels of her hands press into the skin just above her knees as she studies the surveillance footage silently marching across the largest of the Batcomputer's screens.

 

Tim has one leg thrown over the arm of his chair, its ergonomic back pointless since he's wedged himself into the crook of it instead, and his chin drifts towards his chest periodically before he snaps back to attention, focusing once more on the screen. (The dark circles under his eyes, the faint sluggishness in his normally dexterous fingers—he hasn't slept in several days, not properly, and he's beginning to feel the strain.)

 

Stephanie drifted off an hour ago. She's fast asleep in another of the rolling chairs, her arms wrapped around knees drawn up tight against her chest—

 

"It's okay," Cassandra wants to tell her, "It's okay, you belong here, there's no need to make yourself small"—

 

and her cape pulled around her like a blanket. Her snores, soft and barely more than breaths, are nearly lost beneath the creaking of Tim's chair each time he shifts.

 

Cassandra pays very little attention to the three-day-old video, watching the bob of Tim's shock of messy hair instead; whenever he finally drifts off, she'll move him and Stephanie to the beds in the med bay and hit the streets for a few more hours. (The bank heist can wait another night, and Cassandra has no job or school waiting for her once the sun crests the horizon.)

 

The screen flickers with the flare of an automatic weapon, and Tim's chin drops to his chest and finally stays there, nearly a minute passing without movement. Cassandra straightens, shifts her weight to slide silently down from her perch—

 

And Harper roars into the Cave, tired-fond-mischief in her eyes and her smile as she dismounts her bike. Stephanie and Tim both startle awake, and Cassandra drops her palms onto the table behind her, settling her weight back into place. (Doesn't quite sigh in exasperation.) Stephanie's cape pools around her ankles as she jolts straight to her feet, guilt and anxiety in her wide open eyes, and Tim runs a hand roughly over his face in embarrassment-frustration-determination as he glances up at the screen.

 

"Nice of you kids to wait up for me," Harper teases, shoves a white paper bag into Stephanie's chest and holds a tray of coffee cups out to Tim. "Ah ah—" she says, tugs it back when he tries to take the whole thing. "Just the big one."

 

Tim makes a face at her, but he doesn't hesitate to cradle the cup against his chest and greedily inhale the fumes as Stephanie tears open her bag with curious fingers. "Donuts," she says, a pleased smile on her lips, and Harper beams as she shoves a broken utility belt out of the way to set the tray down next to Cassandra.

 

"I figured you'd appreciate those more than caffeine," she teases (Stephanie makes a noise of heartfelt agreement), raising up the two remaining cups and glancing at the little markings on their sides before holding one out to Cassandra. "Tea," Harper informs her. "Alfred approved tea, even."

 

Cassandra lets Harper press the cup into her palms and then brings it to her nose, inhaling in a gentle mimicry of Tim. The scent is softly floral, earthy in that way that black tea always is, and she sighs gratefully as she tells Harper, "I love you."

 

Harper winks, answers, "I know," as Stephanie barks a laugh.

 

Tim cranes his neck, abandoning his coffee for a moment to peer back at them, eyebrows furrowed. "When did you guys show her _Star Wars_?" he asks, and his eyes narrow, judgment-suspicion, when Cassandra tilts her head to the side, gazes back at him curiously.

 

Harper takes a sip of her coffee, glancing over at Stephanie, who raises her eyes to the ceiling and screws up her face. "Well…" she hedges, one powder-covered finger tapping against her lips.

 

Tim makes a disgruntled noise.

 

(Cassandra hides a satisfied smile behind the lip of her cup.)

 

***

 

Harper and Stephanie's apartment creaks with every footfall and buzzes with the faint sounds of traffic and the muffled voices of their neighbors on either side, it smells vaguely of dust and rusted pipes and exposed drywall, and every other accessory is the vivid shade of purple that Stephanie lovingly calls "eggplant."

 

But in Cassandra's humble opinion- as Harper presses tightly into her side and Tim throws an arm across both of their shoulders, as Stephanie's hip digs painfully into Cassandra's thigh while she tries to get both herself and a fluffy purple blanket draped over all three sets of legs- no apartment has ever been more perfect.

 

"Can I say a few words, first?" Tim asks, uses his free hand to help Stephanie arrange the blanket.

 

"What words?" Harper asks, suspicious, lifting her own arm out of Stephanie's way to allow her to drop her cheek onto the worn fabric of the armrest.

 

"Just a little something to give Cassie a sense of—"

 

"No," Stephanie intones, fumbling blindly for Cassandra's hand and then dragging it over her waist. She flattens it against her purple-blanketed stomach as she wriggles into the space it had vacated, then pats it lightly and leaves it in place. (Cassandra lets her cheek fall onto Harper's shoulder, smiles at the television as Harper's hand idly brushes Stephanie's hair back away from her cheek.)

 

"You should probably just start the movie," Harper suggests, and Tim sighs.

 

" _Star Wars_ is important to me- to you guys, too- and I just want to make sure she doesn't judge it on the special effects or—"

 

"Tim?" Harper says, exasperated-fond as she tilts her head to meet his gaze. "Cass has literally never seen a movie before."

 

Stephanie's sides shake with laughter as she presses her face into the armrest, and Tim releases a sharp breath. "Good point," he says, his own voice shaky with laughter, and lifts the remote. Then he pauses, head tilting slightly with a new thought. "Who's going to read the opening scrawl?"

 

"We can take turns; three of us, three movies," Harper points out. She reaches to the side, snagging a bowl of popcorn off of the side table, and balances it precariously on Stephanie's shoulder. Cassandra reaches for a handful, curious, and Harper smiles and mouths, "Good?"

 

(Cassandra knows she'll always associate the buttery, salty flavor with this moment, and it's that more than anything that has her nodding enthusiastically.)

 

"I can read first," Stephanie tells them, the last word fading away into a yawn. "I think I'm going to fall asleep halfway through _Empire Strikes Back_."

 

"I'll poke you in the side periodically," Tim says as he presses play, tone innocent but smile teasing, and Stephanie huffs, kicking him lightly with one heel. His hand finds her knee after he sets the remote aside, his smile tilting into something soft and fond, and there's a hush of anticipation as the menu screen falls away.

 

Stephanie slips her fingers through Cassandra's, squeezes tightly, and reads out, "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…"

 


End file.
